


Can I Kiss Where it Hurts?

by supernatural_jackles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Injuries, Smut., Violence, Vulnerable!Dean, moc!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 16:58:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17026572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernatural_jackles/pseuds/supernatural_jackles





	Can I Kiss Where it Hurts?

“Okay, we’re going in. Y/N, you head in and go left. Sam go right and I’ll go straight and we’ll meet in the middle once everything is cleared out. This place is crawling with demons,” Dean explained. His hands moving in each direction for extra effect. You nodded your head in agreement, pulling out the demon knife from the back of your pants. **  
**

“Got it,” you replied. Sam nodded his head, grabbing an angel blade from Dean’s duffle.

 “Stay safe, sweetheart,” he said softly, “see you on the other side.”

 “You two, Winchester’s. I don’t feel like burning one of y’alls bodies after this hunt,” you chuckled.

 You took off down the left corridor of the abandoned asylum. The smell of dust and dead bodies hit your nose a hell of a lot faster than you expected it to. The hallway was dark and very closed off, making your heart race in the anticipation of being jumped or caught off. It was the same with every hunt, and after years of the family business, it never got any easier. Although it felt a little less nerve wracking when you knew the boys have your back.

 “Winchester’s little pet,” a female voice called from behind you. “It’s going to be fun killing you!”

 When you came to, you instantly realized that you were strapped tightly to what felt like a post. Your head sagged down and your heart was still racing. This could be it for you. This could be the end and you wouldn’t even get the chance to get out of the life and live the unrealistic apple pie life. You were never going to be able to tell Dean how you felt.

 After knowing the Winchester’s for the last fifteen years, spending hours in the car together, sharing a bed with one of them then switching the next. You knew you were bound to fall for one of them. If you were to ask yourself, you thought it was going to be Sam. Sam Winchester, the sweet, compassionate, caring man that you instantly got along with. But you soon came to the realization that you and Sam were never going to be anything more than friends. It just didn’t hit off in that way. He became more like your brother.

 But Dean on the other hand. Dean was this cocky, badass kind of guy that protected everyone he cared about. At the beginning, Dean would shoot you a wink and there was some flirty banter between the two of you. That all slowed down the second you joined them permanently. You knew it was something more when he patched you up after a rough ghoul hunt. He was sweet and gentle, very gentle. He made jokes and told you stories that would help take your mind off the pain. The way he looked at you, the way he made your heart flutter in your chest. No one had ever made you feel that way and it only escaladed from there. The close proximity when you shared a bed with him. The way his arm would brush against you before he pulled you into him like it was no big deal. You fell for the older Winchester, hard and fast and all at once. Even if that stupid apple pie life was a pipe dream, you knew you’d be incredibly happy if you spent the rest of your life next to him.

 But all that could be over if you made one wrong move.

 You weren’t ready to give up.

 “Well well, little miss ‘thinks she’s a badass’ Winchester pet,” the blonde demon started.

 “You Abbadon groupies really gotta get a hobbie. This is really getting old. I mean come on, Crowley is the king, Abbadon is dead. Get over it,” you told them.

 “Don’t touch her!” A deep, gruff voice called out. You looked up and made eye contact with Dean, Sam following behind him. Both of them being held by demons. The three of you were screwed. “I swear to god, you lay a finger on her and I’ll rip your throat out.”

 “Big talk from you Deano. Too bad you don’t scare me,” the blonde chuckled.

 “Right. But just remember, bitch. I’m the one who killed your so called leader. You’re nothing but a bunch of lowlife black eyed son’s of bitches who ain’t got nothin’ better to do than to kidnap a couple of kids in order to make a statement,” Dean barked.

 “And you still got caught,” she tisked.

 Dean got out of the demon’s hold in an instant, punching him straight in the jaw. Sam doing the same. Both of them fought with so much ease. Dodging punch and kick before pulling out the angel blade. Two demons down and it was only a matter of time until they took out the rest.

 You tried to wiggle free from the ropes that were tied tightly around you but no avail. They were too tight and the only result you got was some rope burn. Three more demons down, one more to go. The blonde bitch.

 “Peace out, bitch,” Dean smirked before driving the angel blade through her chest. You could see just how happy Dean was to take her out, a little too happy thanks to the Mark of Cain. She wasn’t all that bright. She watched the rest of the demons die, not even trying to make a move on you.

 “You okay?” Sam asked, coming up from behind you to cut you free from the ropes.

 “Rope burn. Couple of scratched. My head hurts,” you told him. Your vision going blurry quicker than you could keep up with. Everything faded to black.

 You came to once more. This time, a hand softly caressing your face. Your eyes fluttered open, only to find you were back in the bunker, in Dean’s room. Your head felt a little better than it did before. Your wrists were sore. You were happy to be home. You were happy to be safe with Dean.

 “Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly. “How you feeling?”

 “Sore. I gotta clean my cuts. That asylum gave me the creeps. The last thing I need is tetanus.” Your voice was raspy from lack of use, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

 “Lay down, I’ll clean you up,” he offered. Your eyes met his and your heart fluttered in your chest. He got up from the side of the bed and headed out to grab the first aid kit. You rolled up the sleeves of your flannel and took one look at the rope burns. They were sore to the touch, and red, definitely going to take a least a few weeks to heal. “I brought some whiskey, to help with the pain.”

 “Thanks, Dean,” you breathed out.

 “Just relax, okay? Where are you hurt?” he questioned. You remember when you and the blonde got in a fight before she knocked you out cold that she got you real good on your ribs, which is probably why you were so sore at the moment. You sat up and shrugged the flannel off your shoulders. Dean’s eyes were on you the entire time. You lifted up your shirt to reveal the wound. “Fuck, why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

 “I passed out remember!”

 “God, Y/N!”

 “It’s not even that bad, Dean. It doesn’t even hurt that much,” you assured him.

 “That’s not the point. Sure this is nothing this time, but what about next time? Next time we might not be so lucky,” he argued.

 “You can’t think like that Dean. That’s going to get you killed. You know I can handle my own and sometimes this happens. I’ll patch it up, okay.”

 “No. Let me,” he said. His jaw was clenched. He opened up the first aid kit and grabbed the rubbing alcohol, pouring a small amount on a cotton ball before dabbing it on your skin. You winced at the stinging sensation it gave you and Dean instantly apologized, his expression softening instantly. “It’s not bad, sweetheart. A couple of bandaids should do the trick okay?”

 “Kay,” you whispered.

 “Now, I hope you don’t mind, all we’ve got is Scooby Doo ones. It’s all the grocery store had, other than princess ones and I wasn’t buying them,” he chuckled, lightning the mood. “You’ll be good as new after this.”

 “You’re such a good nurse, Deano,” you giggled.

 “Shut up.”

 “In all seriousness, you are Dean. You’re gentle compared to Sam. God knows what you did before I came along to patch you up,” you smiled.

 “I suffered,” he let out a laugh, his hand reaching back behind his head, rubbing the short hairs there. Something he did when he was nervous.

 “Well thank you. I’m glad you’re here to patch me up,” you told him.

 “Yeah, just try not to get anymore next hunt. Patching you up is my least favourite thing to do.”

 “Awwe Dean, you worry too much.”

 “Yeah I do,” he said seriously. “I don’t even want to think about what could have happened if that demon was smarter. We could have lost you today so you’re right. I do worry too much, but I can’t stand the thought of losin’ you.”

 “I’m here, Dean. Nothing’s going to take me away from you and Sam. Not on my watch,” you started. You promised yourself that if you got out of the hunter alive that you’d tell Dean how you felt an right now felt like the perfect time to tell him. There was no Sam in the room. It was quiet and private. You could run away still if you needed to, which was a good chance. But you realized today that the life you live is too short to be playing around your feelings. And if you want to be happy, you need to take a chance. “Did you get hurt when you were fighting?”

 “Not bad. Nothing that needs looked at,” he shrugged. You squinted your eyes at him.

 “Where did they get you?” you questioned. “Just remember tetanus is a thing.” He scoffed and took a seat on the bed. He removed his flannel shirt, placing it flat on the empty space at the end of the bed. He then lifted up his shirt, just enough to reveal a cut on his hip. It wasn’t deep by any means, but it was at least five inches long.

 You got off the bed and opened the first aid kit, grabbing the rubbing alcohol and a cotton ball. He lay back on the bed, his legs dangling off as his forearm covered his eyes. He took a sharp intake of breath the second you touched the cotton ball to his open wound. You cleaned it thoroughly as he flinched slightly.

 “I think you’re safe from tetanus,” you said softly.  “But there is one more thing.”

 “Y/N, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t need Scooby Doo bandaids. It’s just a scratch,” he muttered.

 “ **Can I kiss where it hurts?** ” you said bluntly. There was no taking your words back now, even if you wanted to. Dean’s arm lifted from over his eyes, allowing him to look at you. His brows furrowed. “My mom always said it promotes healing or something along those lines.”

 You grew nervous as hell. All of a sudden, it sounded so stupid.  What were you thinking? Right, taking a chance. But all you did was make yourself sound like an idiot. You wanted to run out of the room with the amount of embarrassment you were feeling.

 “You’re more hurt then I am, Y/N. I’m not sure it’s a good idea-”

 “You’re right. ’s a stupid thing anyways,” you said, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

 “I was going to say, I’m not sure it’s a good idea if you were to because you’re more hurt. If anything, I should be the one kissing you where it hurts,” he muttered. There was your in.

 “Like I said before Winchester,” you smirked, standing up straight, trying to muster up enough confidence to really go through with this. You placed your hands on his knees, “you worry too damn much.”

 You leaned forward and brushed your lips against the wound on his hip and you felt him tense for a moment before he relaxed into the mattress. You pressed a couple of kisses along the cut, your eyes daring to meet with his.

 “Does it hurt anywhere else?” you asked, your voice low to hide the nervousness that was growing stronger and stronger in the pit of your stomach. He was drawn a blank and a silence fell over the two of you. The Mark of Cain came to your mind and that was a sensitive issue. He never let anyone touch it, let alone kiss it. This was your moment. You had one chance at this and you knew you’d kick yourself if you ever missed the opportunity.

 He sat up on the bed, his eyes still locked on you. You took a seat next to him, making yourself comfortable on his memory foam mattress, laying down on your stomach. You took his right arm, linking your fingers with his as your lips hovered over the Mark. You could feel just how tense Dean was. You pressed your lips gingerly to the scar. You heard him let out a breath and felt him relax. His other hand made its way into you hair, gingerly brushing his fingers through the soft strands as you kissed along the angry red mark on his forearm.

 “Y/N,” he sighed. You smiled at the sound of your name rolling off his tongue. You kissed the mark once more before you slowly sat up, your eyes meeting his. You cupped his cheeks, feeling his stubble against the palm of your hands. His expression was soft, his breathing was calm, his eyes watching your every move. You leaned forward, pulling his head forward gently pressing a kiss to the small cut on his forehead. You loved this man more than you could ever describe. The look on his face in this very moment was enough to make you fall for him all over again.

 “Anywhere else?” you whispered, almost inaudibly. Your eyes flicked up, meeting with his gorgeous forest green orbs. Your heart fluttering once more.

 “Just one,” he mouthed, leaning forward. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, his lips were on yours, hard and demanding. His hands snaking around your back, pulling you into him. You responded back seconds later. Your heart was racing a mile a minute, your world falling into place.

 You leaned back, pulling him with you until your back hit the mattress. His kiss became softer; sweeter. His lips moved slowly with yours as he made himself comfortable between your legs. Your noses brushed together as you switched sides, your mouth opening in the process. Dean’s tongue slipped in, brushing gently against yours as his hand came up to your cheek. His fingers pushing the hair away from your face. You melted into the mattress. Your heart felt full. This is exactly where you wanted to be. You wanted this moment to happen for as long as you can remember. You wanted to feel his lips on your so bad and feel his hands on your body as something more. You wanted to hold him tight to you and never let go. This was your version of an apple pie life.

 He pulled away, trying to catch his breath in the process. You kept your tight grip on him, afraid of him getting up and leaving you when he fit so perfectly where he was. He smiled down at you. His thumb stroke your cheek.

 “You take my breath away, Dean Winchester,” you whispered, not daring to meet his eyes. His thumb stopped and his hand trailed down to your chin, lifting your gaze upwards. His smile was genuine, his tongue peeking past his white teeth. He tilted forward, your noses touching as your breath mingled with his. The anticipation alone made you all tingly inside.

 “You make my heart race, Y/N Y/L/N,” he said almost inaudibly. His other hand took yours, pulling it between your two bodies. He placed it directly over his heart and you felt it. His heart was racing. Your eyes locked once more. You were going to say it. There was absolutely nothing stopping you from telling Dean how you felt.

 “I- I love you,” you mumbled. “You don’t have to say it back. I’m not expecting you to even feel the same but I can’t keep hiding how I feel about you. Life’s too short, and I realized today that I’m not invincible and I’m not going to live until I’m sixty. I’ve accepted that but I can’t accept being scared of how I feel especially when I picture myself happy. You’re the one by my side when I picture that. I’m not perfect, you’re not perfect but this; this feels pretty damn close to perfect to me and if I can live the rest of my days like this then I’ll be just fine.”

 Silence. Pure silence. God, you probably scared him off. Of course you scared him off. You told him you loved him for crying out loud. “Please say something,” you begged. “Anything.”

 His heart was still going a mile a minute and it scared you to take your hand off of him, in case he was to pull away and leave you without so much as a word. You needed something, even if it was just an ‘okay’.

 “I’m scared,” he whispered. Your eyes went wide at his confession. Never in your life have you heard those words escape past his lips. Dean put on a brave face and made sure you and Sam were good, never once caring about how he was doing. Every wall he put up, every brave face, every emotion he told himself he couldn’t feel just came crashing down. He was more vulnerable than ever.

 “Of what?”

 “Letting myself go there with you. Of letting myself have you like that; this, when the Mark is on my arm. I-I can’t hurt you,” he revealed.

 “How did it feel when I kissed the Mark?” you questioned.

 “Calm, in a different way,” he started. You took your hand off his chest and reached for his arm. Your fingers grazed over the Mark. “It feels like it should be wrong.”

 “I’m not afraid of you, Dean. I’m not afraid of you hurting me and you want to know why?” you smiled. “Because you get worried about a few scratches and put Scooby Doo bandaids on me. Because despite the mark, you’re nothing but gentle towards me. But I’m scared of living a life without you. It’s okay to be scared, Dean. It’s okay to let yourself be vulnerable and feel love,” you told him. “I love you, Dean Winchester. I always have.”

 He kissed you, swiftly and carefully, throwing his emotions into the kiss. All the words he couldn’t say were said in the way his lips pressed against yours.

 “I want you,” he said. “I want all of you, okay? I could have lost you today and then you tell me…you tell me you love me and I need you.”

 “I’m yours.”

 “‘M yours too.”

 “Mhh Dean,” you smiled. “If this is going further, we should probably close the door.”

 “Right,’ he chuckled. He rolled off of you and stood up. Was this really going to happen? Were you really going to have Dean Winchester after years of daydreaming. Was this even real? You watched as he shut his door quietly. Your eyes locked on his every move. “You sure about this? About me?”

 “Never been more sure about anything,” you stated.

 He removed his shirt, throwing it over to the couch by the wall before climbing back on the bed. You smiled the second you saw his naked torso. His anti possession tattoo standing out on his chest. He was so damn attractive and he knew it too.  

 You sat up. Your hands instantly making their way to his belt buckle. It took you a split second to figure out how to undo it before you were unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them down his thick, muscular bowlegs. You could see his half hard cock in his boxers. The seconds he was out of his jeans, he was on the bed. His fingers grasping the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. Then he went for your bra, expertly removing it with care, not to hurt your wound.

 “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he muttered. His lips were on yours once more, this time with the Dean Winchester confidence that you somehow expected. God, did this man know how to kiss. His lips were soft and gentle, yet demanding. Heat was pooling in your core and you desperately needed to feel him between your legs.

 He unbuttoned your jeans, slipping them down your legs, taking your bright pink panties along the way. He took one good long look at you and you could see that he liked what he saw, which definitely made you less nervous.

 “Your boxers need to go,” you giggled. You sat up and curled your fingers in the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down, his cock sprang free from the confinements.  He was long, and thick and so damn hard. You licked your lips in anticipation. You wanted him so bad. You needed to feel him inside you.

 “Like what you see?” he said with a cocky grin playing on his lips.

 “Shut up, Winchester,” you teased. “Come over here and fuck me.”

 He kneeled down on the bed, spreading your legs further apart so he could fit perfectly between them and he did. His hands rested on each side of your shoulders, holding up his weight as he looked down at you.

 “Condom?” he questioned.

 “Birth control,” you whispered.

 He dragged his fingers through your soaking folds before stroking his length a few times. The tip of his cock pressed to your entrance, teasing you with the anticipation of him filling you up like you desperately wanted him to.

 He pushed into you slowly, his cock stretching your walls in the most perfect way. You let out a wanton moan, your hands clasping over your mouth the second you realized how loud you were. Sam was still in the bunker after all. Dean only smirked as the rest of his length pressed into you, his balls pressed against your ass as he filled you up completely. There was a slight stinging sensation, but nonetheless, he felt amazing inside you.

 “Fuck, you’re so tight around me,” he breathed out, his eyes shut securely. “So fucking good.”

 “Mmh, move please, Dean,” you gasped, “I need you to move.”

 He pulled out almost completely before plunging back in, your walls clenching around him as he moved. You spread your legs wider apart, wrapping one around him as he moved inside you. Your hands dug into his shoulders, pulling him into you, your breasts pressed against his chest. You threw your head back as he thrusted in and out.

 “Fuck Dean, So good,” you moaned into his ear. His lips latched onto your neck, sucking and nibbling the skin on your neck. Your fingers scratched the hair on the back of his neck, tugging lightly as pleasure coursed through you.

 “God, I can feel you tightening around me,” he growled. “Fuck.”

 His words only egged you on. You were growing closer and closer with every movement of his cock dragging along your walls. You pushed against him, rolling him over onto his back with his cock still inside you. His hands instantly gripped your hips, his eyes wracking over your body in front of him. To make it even worse, his tongue flicked over his bottom lip, wetting it before he pulled it between his teeth. You let out a moan and began to move on his length with a teasingly slow pace. You watched as his eyes closed and his neck arched back. His mouth opened slightly as his breathing picked up. The look on his face was downright sinful and it went straight to your core.

 “Fucking hell,” he groaned, almost inaudibly. His grip tightened on your hips, tight enough that there would be a bruise or two come tomorrow. You placed your hands on his shoulders, your fingers digging into his flesh as you bounced up and down his thick length.

 “God, Dean, I’m close,” you trembled.

 “Me too, baby.”

 Dean wrapped his arms around you, inching you forward until your chest pressed against him. You kissed him hard and fast, running out of air quickly. He began to thrust up into you and you cried out. Fuck, did this man know just how to pleasure you. His cock slammed into your sweet spot every time he thrusted up at his fast pace. You ground down on him, trying to meet his thrusts but you couldn’t. It was still the perfect angle for your clit to rub against his pelvic bone.

 “Oh my god, Dean. FUCK!” you quaked.

 “That’s it, come for me sweetheart, come around me,” he strangled out.

 Your fingers dug into his flesh, making crescent shaped moons on his skin. Your walls fluttered around him. Pleasure surged through your body as you cried out his name in his neck. You clung onto him, needing something to hold onto as your orgasm ripped through you. Dean fucked you through it, his pace never wavering until his own bliss took over. His hips bucked up into yours, his cum spilling deep inside you. He came with a strangled moan, as if he was holding back. God, was it the sexiest sound you had ever heard.

 You lay there on top of him, your body limp from your orgasm and content with your surroundings. You could feel Dean’s heartbeat beneath you. His fingers traced over your skin in a calming motion. When you had finally calmed down, you pressed soft kisses along his neck and jaw, relishing in the closeness between the two of you. This is what you wanted after all.

 He shifted underneath you, gripping you tightly as he rolled out over. He pulled his soft cock out of you and rested next to you. His hand rested on your hip and his eyes locked with yours.

 “You okay?” he whispered.

 “Yeah,” you breathed out. “‘M perfect.”

 “Sorry if I was a little rough-”

 “You don’t have to apologize for anything. That was perfect to me,” you assured him. “Although, I’m kinda worried that Sam heard that entire thing.”

 “I don’t care. He’ll put two and two together the second he see’s us. He’s no idiot,” Dean chuckled. “I feel the same, okay? Don’t be worried that I don’t feel the same way. I’m just not sure I’m ready to.”

 “And you don’t need to. Actions speak louder than words, Winchester,” you stated. “You make a pretty sexy nurse if I do say so myself.”

 “Oh shut up!”

 


End file.
